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Moments by crackinthecup
Fandoms: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
28 Aug 2024
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Summary
“The sortie was a triumph,” Mairon says, holding the helm upon his lap and gazing up into his face. He smiles a smile that grows and stretches, wider and wider, as though there is something within him that cannot be contained. Something vast. Something keen. “Beleriand is open to us. Those who thought we could be penned in, who thought our might the lesser, lived to regret such misapprehensions. Or,” he adds, showing his teeth, “did not live, as the case may be.”
Melkor is drawn to that smile, to the something—vital, beguiling—underneath it. He reaches out. Places the leather of his gloved palm and fingers upon Mairon’s cheek. Beneath the leather, pain tingles, his burned skin protesting the contact. Mairon nuzzles against him, eyes flickering shut, a noise issuing from him that is happy and mindless, like the purr of some great pleased beast; and Melkor forgets the pain.
“Congratulations are in order, I should think,” he tells him, “to the brilliant mind who engineered this victory.”
Series
- Part 13 of Ends and Beginnings